


The Old College Try

by aroseandapen



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: College Papyrus, M/M, Papby, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Something small and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 08:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12602912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroseandapen/pseuds/aroseandapen
Summary: Contrary to the phrasing, college is quite the new experience for Papyrus, with equations and the like that Grillby can’t even begin to understand himself. That won’t ever stop him from being there for his boyfriend, especially when he starts to buckle under the stress.





	The Old College Try

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on my blog a while back and forgot to post it here!

“I CAN’T. I JUST CAN’T DO IT.”

Grillby looked up in alarm at the sudden exclamation from Papyrus. The skeleton had papers spread out over his side of the table, inching over into Grillby’s space, a book propped up against the edge in his lap, and the eraser end of a pencil between his teeth. One hand cradled the side of his face, fingers tense and pressing into his temple. Never once did he look up from his work, the barest tremble in his shoulders.

He looked like he might cry.

The chair legs screeched across the tile as Grillby pushed away from the tile. Papyrus didn’t even react as he walked around to stand at his side, looking down at the mess. Half of it was chicken scratch, and the other half was filled with numbers and letters and symbols that Grillby couldn’t begin to decipher. He silently cursed his lack of formal education. Although he’d been homeschooled and learned the basics, like many monsters from Snowdin had, none of his limited knowledge could help Papyrus in the tangle of equations that made up his homework.

At least Grillby could do something, however. He laid a gentle hand against Papyrus’ head, stroking reassurances into the bone.

“Maybe you should take a break?”

“I CAN’T!” Even as he whined, Papyrus leaned into the touch. “I NEED TO GET THIS DONE TONIGHT; IT’S DUE TOMORROW.”

Quite the conundrum. Grillby hummed thoughtfully, rubbing little circles into Papyrus’ temple. He didn’t know how much it helped, but at least he couldn’t feel his boyfriend shaking anymore. A small improvement, if nothing else. A break would help, even if Papyrus denied it.

“Just a moment.”

Grillby left Papyrus at the table, moving to the kitchen counter instead. Behind him, he heard the sound of a pencil clattering against the table and of elbows thumping onto its surface. He didn’t need to look to know what Papyrus was up to. The muffled string of words muttered into hands was evidence enough to what was going on. The poor man. Papyrus tended to hide his troubles, covering it up with a bright smile and some cheerful words, so such a display meant that the problem had been left unchecked much too long. He couldn’t imagine the sort of pressure that caused Papyrus to snap under its weight.

Other than an entire load of angry, self-deprecating words (about how he should’ve been more on top of his things, how it was his own fault that he hadn’t asked for the help that he needed, how surely he’d fail class and flunk out of school at the rate he was going), Grillby didn’t hear too much movement from the skeleton as he rummaged through cabinets and set some water to boil on the stove. No need for fire magic just for a pot of water, although he might be able to get it boiled faster, and it left him free to get the rest of the things ready. He poured the boiling water over a teabag, feeling the steam waft up from the cup and the flowery aroma of the tea release from the little pouch.

As the water darkened with the brew, he added a single sugar cube—Papyrus didn’t like anything too sweet—and returned to the table with the finished cup in hand.

Papyrus only peer out from behind his hands the moment he heard the rustling of papers. He peeked up at Grillby, questioning as he gathered the papers into a neat pile, but didn’t make a move to stop him when he shifted the pile away. Not a word was spoken, in askance or in answer, until Grillby set the cup on the table in front of him.

Dark eye sockets glanced down into the dark liquid. “TEA?”

“Earl Grey,” Grillby said, nodding down at the cup. “I got it the last time I went grocery shopping. It smells quite nice. I think you’ll like it.”

Closing the book in his lap and moving it to the side, Papyrus picked up the cup, fingers hooked through the handle and his other hand cupped underneath it. He didn’t sip right away, instead bringing it up to breathe in the steam curling up from it. His eye sockets fluttered closed and a contented hum rumbled from deep within his chest. When he exhaled, it seemed like he blew away all the tension gathered in his shoulders with the air.

“IT DOES SMELL GOOD,” he agreed after a long silent moment. He sipped at the tea. “OH. IT TASTES GOOD, TOO.”

It pleased Grillby to see the change, from angry stress to the calm of experiencing a nice cup of tea. He’d chosen well. Maybe next time he went to the store, he’d bring home more different kinds. A college student needed every bit of peace that he could get, Grillby thought, especially with the confusing jumble that was Papyrus’ homework.

Grillby pulled a chair over to sit next to Papyrus, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Papyrus moved in automatically, resting his skull against Grillby as he continued to stare into the tea. He seemed lost in thought. Grillby kissed the top of his head, earning himself a pleasant little sigh from his boyfriend.

And yet the mood soon soured, and the sigh turned into a groan. “THIS IS SO HARD.”

“It is.” Of course he had to agree. Grillby could make no sense of what Papyrus worked through every night. “You’ll get it. I know you will.”

Papyrus didn’t respond right away. He took a long drink, and even after he pulled the cup away from his mouth he remained quiet for a few moments more. When he spoke up, his voice was uncharacteristically tiny. “WHAT IF I’M NOT SMART ENOUGH? WHAT IF I _CAN’T_  GET IT? IT’S SO HARD, I DON’T UNDERSTAND AND I JUST—I JUST—. MAYBE THIS WAS A MISTAKE? MAYBE I’M NOT CUT OUT FOR SCHOOL. I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN—.”

Grillby squeezed Papyrus’ shoulders. “You’re more than smart enough. I know you, Papyrus, and you’re intuitive and intelligent and one of the most hardworking monsters that I know. If anyone can do this and succeed, it’s you. You haven’t failed a single class yet, after a full year now, I don’t see why you’ll start now.”

When Papyrus offered nothing in return, Grillby pressed more kisses over the top of Papyrus’ head, wrapping his other arm around him to pull the sullen monster into a full-bodied hugged. The tea shifted dangerously with the abrupt movement, but Papyrus managed to keep it from spilling over Grillby’s lap. Another groan issued forth from him, still frustration but tinged with embarrassment as Papyrus sunk into the embrace.

“YOU’RE BIASED…” he said, turning his face up to meet Grillby’s eyes.

He let the accusation roll off of him, shaking his head. “That’s not true. I know plenty of monsters who’d say the same thing. I’m sure your past teachers would agree. You’re working very hard, and you’re going to graduate in a few years, and then you’ll take the world by storm. I know it.”

Their foreheads touched. Grillby’s glasses slid down his face, giving him an amusing magnified view of the contours of Papyrus’ cheekbone. He gave him a warm smile, flames crackling cheerfully as he pressed in to kiss Papyrus’ mouth.

“Please,” Grillby said when he pulled back. “Take a short break. Enjoy the tea. And when you’re ready you can tackle your homework again. No matter what happens, I’m always going to be here for you. And if you do fail, you can always try again. It’ll be ok.”

A smile snuck onto Papyrus’ face, a rosy glow dusted over his bones.

“THANK YOU, GRILLBY. YOU’RE THE BEST.”

Grillby shook his head and kissed Papyrus once more.

“No, I’m afraid _that_  title belongs to the Great Papyrus.”


End file.
